Birthday Comfort
by pleasesayitsnotso
Summary: Since it is Chris Evans 33rd birthday today, I thought about how Steve would celebrate his birthday and this angsty creation occurred, with of course some Romanrogers. Please review and I hope you enjoy it.


**Birthday Comfort**

_"__The person whom you really, really love may not be here anymore. And you might be feeling lonely, but, there are people in this world who really, really love you, so shouldn't that equal it all out? So, please don't ever think that you're alone. I'll be watching over you. I'll always be watching over you. I promise to always watch over you. You're not alone."  
__― __Yuuki Obata_

* * *

It was the fourth of July twenty-thirteen, and Steve had been uncharacteristically quiet all day considering it was Independence Day, many of the Avengers had been too preoccupied with the excitement of the build up to the festivities to notice the Captains withdrawal. However Natasha had noted that more often than not Steve had slinked away into the shadows, and had been incredibly difficult to find, leading to the discovery of his alarming absence from the gym. Their friendship had developed slowly and cautiously however they both frequently took comfort in each other's calming and quiet presence, something that could be incredibly hard to come by considering their fellow companions. Frequently when the Avengers tower got all too much for Natasha to handle, she would make her way to Steve's apartment and together they would occupy themselves with the hobbies that required the comforting silence they both emanated. During these periods of shared domesticity, they had forged a strong and wordless connection that not many knew of, however Fury had identified their efficiency as a partnership and had sent them on many paired missions together. Natasha knew something wasn't right but knew better than to pry, if Steve wanted to confide in her he would, but until then she would observe him closely and try to coax Steve out of the darkness that had encompassed him.

* * *

Steve had disappeared from the fireworks early that night, and Natasha had finally had enough of the sulking. Striding with a silent vigour down the corridor towards Steve's apartment, she pushed open the door to find the apartment eerily quiet. It felt cold and clinical, nothing like the home that was usually occupied by the warm man that was Captain America, and her footsteps, although soft, echoed loudly initiating an alarming increase in her heart rate and her hand to slip to the gun she had placed behind her back. Her hand clasped the cool, sleek metal; however she paused for a moment noticing a file was laid open on the dining room table, pulling her hand back from its intended task she moved over and looked over the file. It was Steve's file. Displayed openly were pictures of Howards Stark, Peggy Carter and James Barnes all were smiling and despite them only being photographs they seemed to come alive off of the page, their eyes sparkling with a promise to the protection of the future and a long life consumed by the friendships and relationships established between each other. A photograph depicted all of them, including Steve, smiling together their cheeks rosy and their expressions, displayed the natural happiness that was impossible to not portray when in the company of the people you loved. Natasha traced her finger over the happy faced, uniformed Steve depicted in front of her, she wanted this Steve back and in the week following up to this day the lightness he naturally emanated had decayed slowly allowing the darkness of pessimism and loneliness to consume and isolate him. She let a heavy sigh escape her lips before another picture caught her eye of a young woman, her appearance was a typical housewife of the 1920's, her arms were wrapped around a small boy of no more than two or three years of age. Her eyes gleamed with love and happiness and her smile had caused her cheeks to ascend and two, familiar looking, dimples to appear. Flipping the black and white photo over she noted that on the back it had written 'Sarah and Steve Rogers, 1922', turning it back over she immediately realised that this was Steve's mother, she was beautiful. She emanated kindness and warmth, much like her son, and her expression was light and conveyed a natural instinct to care and love. Natasha allowed a sad smile to creep across her face, and she could feel that her eyes had now adopted a glassy sheen, as she thought of everyone Steve had lost and to the alarmingly stark and chaotic world he had woken up to. Looking back down, the picture still in her hand, she saw that the removal of this picture had revealed the personal file and records of Steve, on the top written next to his full name was his date of birth. The fourth of July 1920. Today was Steve's birthday.

* * *

Steve stood on his balcony, leaning his elbows on the railing, looking out into the night, he watched as the sky exploded in techni-coloured sparks, lighting up the sky and lulling him into a thoughtless daze. Today was his birthday; his ninety-third birthday to be specific, however this day had just brought with it the loneliness that forever haunted him. The people he left behind, the people he loved and cared for who he would never see again. He would never share his life with any of them. Peggy. Beautiful, brave and faithful Peggy had always believed in him, and believed that he would come back to her. He hadn't. Peggy would forever have a part of his heart, she was his sweetheart, strong and radiant like the sun, but now he found himself fighting against the immeasurable pull he felt towards the mysterious enigma that was Natasha Romanoff. Would Peggy have liked Natasha? Probably not, they were so similar he felt that they would constantly be in a silent battle for female supremacy within a mainly male dominated group. They were both very strong independent women, and he loved that about both of them, but as much as Natasha intrigued him she also scared him. She was unknown territory and she never gave too much away, she kept her emotions and feelings to herself so it was impossible to know her outlook or innermost thoughts. A deep sigh forced itself from his lungs as his mind drifted back to his past life, and the recurring painful predominant thought. **_Was it always going to be this hard?_**

Walking towards the balcony windows she noted the still and engrossed figure of Steve leaning against the railings, she sighed and hoped that what she was about to do would make matters better rather than worse. Comfort was not one of her strong suits, however she cared for Steve and she wanted to aid him through whatever suffering he was going through. Walking onto the balcony she placed herself next to Steve,

"Happy Birthday Steve." Steve was not alarmed by her presence despite his lack of reaction to her entrance; he turned and let a soft smile grace his lips when he saw that in her hand she held a small cupcake with a solitary lit candle. Natasha gracefully returned the smile and held out the cupcake for Steve to blow the candle out, which he did softly before meeting her comforting gaze. Her verdant eyes were enhanced by the reflection of the fireworks, making them gleam and sparkle even more than they did usually. For a moment he felt himself starting to get lost in them, however her gaze was ripped from his as she could no longer endure the paling blue pools of helplessness that were reflected back to her. They now both stood looking out at the firework display in front of them, both soaking up the presence of the other and the comfortable silence that engulfed them in the peaceful warmth of the night. Struggling to find the right words to say, Natasha placed her hand on top of Steve's that was placed on the railing. She knew that words just wouldn't cut it; he needed to know that someone was there, there for him whenever he felt alone. **Someone to tell him that he wasn't alone**. Steve was momentarily shocked by the contact of Natasha's petite hand however he soon found that he liked it, brushing his thumb over the underside of her hand he found himself turning his hand in hers. Their fingers interlocked perfectly, as if they were made for this very moment, this very purpose. Fearing Natasha would pull her hand away, and the absence that she would cause from this movement, Steve glanced in the direction of Natasha and found her wearing an indifferent expression, however her hand was still in his. She still faced out towards the sparkling night sky, however he felt her squeeze his hand softly, and he let himself think that perhaps this would be the last lonely birthday he would ever have to endure. **For he had her, and she had him**.


End file.
